


'Worried' Doesn't Come Close

by karathegoddess



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, hunnihawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 11:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30071280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karathegoddess/pseuds/karathegoddess
Summary: After Frank accidently shoots B.J, Hawkeye is ridden with panic. Lot's of hunnihawk fluff.(Season 5 ep 7 'The Abduction of Margaret Houlihan')
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, B. J. Hunnicutt/Peg Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	'Worried' Doesn't Come Close

Hawkeye felt his tense shoulders relax as the soothing hot water dripped down his sore muscles. The showers were empty and he wasn’t too keen on the silence. Normally BJ or Father Malcahy would keep his ear busy, but with only the steam for company, he was left with his thoughts racing back to OR.  
Had he done everything he could for that kid? He had to amputate the arm, but was there more he could have graphed? The artery had looked like it had been used for target practice. B.J and Colonel Potter had agreed there was nothing else to be done after all. Hawkeye lathered himself in the sudsy soap and shook his head. He still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that he hadn’t done enough.  
To distract himself he began to sing. Loud and obnoxious, though he had a pretty good voice overall. He sang any song that popped in his head. It helped. He was still scrubbing the soap bar on his chest and was humming a part where he had forgotten the lyrics when a loud firecracker rang across the camp. It took Hawkeye a full second to comprehend that sound was a gunshot. A very close gunshot. He dropped the soap in the tin and turned off the water. He scrambled to put on his bathrobe as he raced out of the showers, his heart beating in his throat, his stomach knotting in a thousand different places. Was it a sniper? There weren't rumors of one in camp. He knew only one thing. The sound had originated from the Swamp.  
He was worried about everyone. No doubt, but B.J’s dumb face flashed across his mind. No. Please, no, he begged to whatever deity would answer. Not B.J. He was just about the only one in this dumb war keeping him sane.  
Hawkeye was in the middle of writing Peggy a letter. He liked her a lot. As luck would have it, she liked him too. And the three of them had begun a terrifying, but fun relationship. In the letter B.J. and Hawk had received most recently, she said she had just purchased a King sized mattress so all three of them could sleep in the same bed when they got back. She was one hell of a woman.  
He didn’t know what he’d do if anything happened to B.J. Actually he did, he’d have a mental breakdown. Quite simple really. The camp felt ten times as large as normal as Hawkeye's bare feet kicked up dust as he sprinted to the swamp door and pulled it open.  
“What happened!?!” He demanded, barely taking enough time to take in the scene of B.J collapsed on his cot, before plowing into the room.  
“Hop along Ferret Face, just shot me in the leg!” He hissed.  
“Let me take a look at it,” Hawkeye said.  
“Will you still respect me in the morning?” B.J winced as Hawkeye examined it. He was still making jokes. That was good.  
“He just grazed it,” Hawkeye said letting go of a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. “You’re gonna have to get a couple stitches though. C’mon, help me get him into OR.” Hawkeye secured one of B.J’s arms around his neck and his other fell at B.J’s waist. B.J seemed to push into the touch.  
“Frank, you’re a credit to the enemy,”  
“Well I said I’m sorry! What more can I do?!”  
“Put an apple in your mouth and go play William Tell,” B.J said.  
“Oh geez,” Frank gripped and grabbed at B.J’s blue bathrobe, “You guys aren’t going to...report me or anything?”  
“Frank stop acting like a sniveling idiot!” Hawkeye glowered, his blood beginning to boil. His fear and worry now replaced with heat and wrath.  
“I’m not acting!” Frank insisted. B.J wrenched his robe from Frank’s grasp.  
“Frank, get away from me,” His tone was biting. Frank faced them walking backwards, his face pleading, his chin nowhere to be found.  
“Just promise me you won’t get me in trouble? Pretty please! Pretty pretty please!”  
“We promise!” Hawkeye said, just to get the fink to shut up.  
“What happened here?!” Colonel Potter’s eyes widened, concern clouded in his gray eyes. He put a hand out to help stabilized B.J, but Hawkeye was already practically carrying him.  
“Frank shot B.J.” Hawkeye announced.  
“Tattle tail!” Frank proceeded to call Hawkeye an abundance of insults, most of which he’d never heard of. The Colonel frowned.  
“How bad is it?”  
“Superficial. Fortunately Frank’s as good of a marksman as he is a surgeon.” Hawk jabbed. He pushed passed the door and finally he and B.J were alone. He helped him onto a table.  
“A local is fine, Hawk.” B.J said. Hawkeye didn’t want to argue so he nodded and gave him a local anesthetic. While waiting for it to kick in, he scrubbed and gloved. He was quiet for a while as he sewed the wound. B.J joked a bit more about Frank, but the most Hawkeye would do was smile under his mask. Finally, he finished and began wrapping the wound. He had just tapped it in place when B.J started to giggle.  
“The stitches tickle?” Hawkeye asked, only causing B.J to laugh harder. B.J sat up with assistance and ran a hand through Hawkeye’s hair. His hand was full of wet foamy bubbles.  
“That worried about me?”  
“No, I just prefer the leave in conditioner.” He dropped his sarcasm for a moment and sighed. “‘Worried’ doesn’t even come close.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“Hawk, I’m okay,”  
“Really? Peg and I find you phenomenal, not just okay,”  
“You two aren’t half bad yourselves.” B.J tugged Hawkeye down and planted a kiss on his wet soapy forehead, enjoying the blood that rushed to his cheeks. For a play boy, he was awfully easy to fluster. Hell, Peggy had managed over letters and he still hadn’t even met her. Hawkeye pressed his head against B.J’s for a moment. Hawkeye smelled of soap, coffee, and antiseptic. Still seated, B.J wrapped his arms around Hawkeye and he closed his eyes. Both of them savored the moment. “C’mon, I think you ought to wash out that leave in conditioner before it makes more gray hair,”  
“Who’d know the difference,” B.J laughed and he watched the concern in Hawk’s big blue eyes dissolve. “But you should get some rest. Can I take you to my place, handsome sir? It has a great view of the cesspool,”  
“Couldn’t afford the latrine could you?” Even though Hawkeye had given B.J. the cane, he leaned on Hawk the far more than he needed to. The anesthesia was beginning to wear off and he could feel the throbbing pain that edged it’s presence forward in his consciousness. Hawkeye helped him across camp and into the Swamp. A strong hand guided him into bed and gently pulled the covers up over B.J’s shoulder’s. He reached upwards and squeezed the boney hand on the blanket.  
“What? No goodnight kiss?” B.J asked sleepily. Hawk grinned, one those big wide ones that displayed all of his teeth. Not a smirk or small smile, but a gorgeous genuine Hawkeye smile. He leaned down and pressed a soft gentle kiss to B.J’s lips.  
“Now get some rest, Beej. When you wake up, we’ll shoot Frank,”  
B.J drifted to sleep with a grin on his face.


End file.
